Betrayal
by rosemoon1999
Summary: Years after World War Three, America has been overrun by other nations. The only way to save what's left of his shattered country is to take back the land he once held, and show the world why you don't mess with the United States. Rated for a reason. (Contains: Blood and lots of violence. Lots.)
1. France

So, here we are once again. But this time, I have someone with me! She's my Beta, but I'm not allowed to disclose her name or anything yet. Yet.

This story's a little dark. Rated T for a reason, but is rated M because I'm paranoid.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

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"America... Why?" France whispered, staring with lifelessly hollow cerulean eyes at his friend. The younger man looked back, emotionless, his normally electric blue eyes dull with exhaustion, hunger, and pain.

"I'm sorry... I don't want to fight you. We were friends before all this happened. But I have to. My people, they're dying. And this is the only way."

"Starting a war? America, this... This is insane! Do you think that by starting a war you can never hope to win, you'll magically find a way to save what's left of your country?"

America barked out a harsh laugh, his once-powerful frame shaking. "'Starting a war?' France, you and the others have nearly destroyed my country. Do you really think I'm starting a war? No," He said, holding up a hand and cutting off the other's reply. "I'm merely fighting back."

"But why? We've taken care of you. We have fed and clothed you. Everything we ever did was for your own good. Your people didn't like being under our control, so they rebelled. And yes, when we stopped the rebellion we may have gone a bit too far. Bu-"

America laughed again, an ugly, gasping sound. "A bit? They didn't stand a chance. You didn't stop the rebellion, you massacred my people. All we wanted was for you to back off. We understood that after that last World War, I was deeply in debt and desperately needed your help. But when I got better and was finally able to stand again, you wouldn't let me be free. So my people rebelled, and you slaughtered them for it."

Thunder boomed overhead, puncturing his words. Rain began to pound the roof of the abandoned house America had finally cornered France in, forcing the blonde to step closer to France.

"And what's this bull about feeding and clothing me? All you did to help was take over for me when I was too sick to do my duty! And while I was on my deathbed, you and all my other 'helpers' took what was left of my food, my land, my money, my resources, and my guns to distribute amongst yourselves! What little land you left under my control you burned to the ground! You slaughtered my people, poisoned their water, stole their food and money, or just flat-out murdered them! How the fuck did you _HELP _ME?"He screamed.

America hurled himself at France, viciously stabbing his bony elbow into the other. "_HOW?" _America screamed again, slamming and pinning the other nation to the ground. "You're killing me from the inside, and you have the balls to stand here and say you were _helping_ me?"

France tried to speak, but America slapped him across the face. "Shut your lying mouth! You stole everything I ever had, slaughtered my people, and burned my land!"

He got off the European nation, slamming a foot into the others' ribcage when he tried to get up. "I want to show you what you've done to me." America said, voice cold and eyes like dark blue steel. He pulled off the rag that served as a shirt, snorting and throwing it into France's face when it disintegrated in his hands.

France gasped slightly when he saw what had become of America. His once-powerful build was completely gone, leaving behind skin stretched taunt over bones, which stuck out in painful clarity. You could count his ribs, and see his hipbones. His pants were so worn, hole-ridden and dirty that it didn't seem right to even call them pants. He was barefoot, feet blistered, bloody, and the skin cracked.

But that was nothing compared to the wounds across his chest.

Some were nothing more than angry red scars, but most were open and fresh. There were some small, microscopic scratches, but the majority of them were jagged, painful-looking slashes. A few were even bleeding, mingling with the dirt, sweat, and dried blood already there. Even as France watched in horror, America's face contorted slightly in pain and a new wound ripped itself across his ribs and began bleeding.

"There's been another slaughter." He said quietly, brushing his fingers over the new injury. "I'm guessing a group of five to seven was murdered. By your alliance."

America gazed at France, and for the first time in years the French man saw what he and the others had done to the former superpower. America's eyes had once been so full of life, vitality and hope, as if he couldn't wait to see what life would bring for him next. But now they were cold and empty, save for deep grief and desperation.

_He's lost all hope,_ France realized with a pang. _We've stripped him of any reason to live. If it weren't for his people and the urge to free them, he would be dead._

"And this is why I have to fight." America said, voice hardening into something more. France's eyes widened, and he had a split second to react before the other blonde was on him, punching and tearing. America may have been weak, but what he lacked in strength he made up for in speed and ferocity. France hadn't fought hand-to-hand combat in hundreds of years, but America seemed experienced, as if he did this daily. Every hit France managed to land only seemed to enrage the American further, and the younger seemed to know exactly where, how, and when to hit.

Needless to say, it took 5 minutes for America to subdue France.

America pinned France to the wall of the house, pressing his face into the peeling paint.

"One question, France- Why? Why did you join in on the scheme to try to kill me? Was it greed? Pride? Did you want to tell your boss that you were the one who took down America?"

"America, I-"

"Can it." said America, shoving the other's skull harder into the wall. "I rescued you from Germany, and genuinely helped and was worried about you when you fell into recession. And this is how you repay me." He spat, voice growing lower with each word.

"Well, fuck you. I trusted you once. But I'll never make that same mistake again."

With that, America slammed the side of his bony fist into the side of France's head, dropping him. He looked down at the stunned nation at his feet, and said-

"As of today, America is once again free. I and nobody else, not even one of my people, shall lead this country. Long live the stars and stripes, and may the rest of you pay for what you did to me. As of right now, I will fight against you and all the others who made my country like this. I've said it many times, and now I'll say it again- Don't fuck with the United States of America."

He left France where he lie and walked out onto the street, the rain pounding his skin and washing it of all the grime and blood. America spread his arms and tilted his face upward, closing his eyes.

"So long... It's been so long..." He murmured, revelling in the rain. It was faint, but America could feel it deep in his bones-

The faint beginnings of hope, inspiration, and even traces of rebellion. His people could feel America's victory over France, and were no doubt gathering to plan how to take out the French soldiers that loitered around their hometown. He gave it a week before his people, his noble, unbeatable people, took out the French.

_Don't worry,_ America thought. _We will win this._

_We have to win, or else we won't survive._

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You know, this is pretty fun to write! I might just have to write a second chapter tonight and post it tomorrow ^)^

Anyways, as I have said before if you try to murder me for ANY reason I can and will sic 2p!Canada on you.

You have been warned. Review wisely...

Until next time,

_Maihai~_

_-Ziayre Beilschmitd_


	2. Entry 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Hmm, two chapters in a week. I swear, this will not happen ever again.

Anyways, MY BETA HAS A NAME NOW! :D! Her name is ~ Heart&Soul (Pretty cool, huh?), and she'll be adding in her own Beta notes at the end of every chapter.  
Enough out of me, for now. Be free until the end of the chapter!

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_~Entry number one~_

_July 4__th__, XXXX_

_Mark the day, it's my birthday! It seems right that all those years ago I broke free of England, and today I begin my country's second liberation. Thinking back on it, I never really wanted to get into World War Three. There were just too many tangled alliances, and nations you thought you could count on would happily slip a dagger between your ribs and take you out, just in case you were thinking about doing the same to them. It's fucked-up, you know?_

_I should have listened to my people when I was attacked by Hong Kong, North Korea, Saudi Arabia, India, and Vietnam. My people were smart, and said to stay out of it. They knew the enemy's plan to lure me out of neutrality so they could take me down. My people are smart, and I should have listened to them! God, why was I so stupid and prideful? I thought that by taking out my attackers, (Who I thought were on the losing side) I could teach them not to screw with me. I also thought that if I took them out, it would help my allies._

_So I bombed them. And then my 'allies' turned on me, saying I should have stayed out of it and not tried to be a hero._

_You see, by destroying them I messed up this secret operation to infiltrate and take down their governments, hence taking down their country with minimal bloodshed._

_So they condemned my country and dropped me as an ally. And a nation that stands alone in a World War isn't a country that lasts long. I am a testament to that._

_Without the protection and trading provided by my allies, I crumbled. I stopped taking in money, and even though I begged them not to my government kept spending instead of trying to fix international relations, so trade never really started up again. I grew poorer and skinnier. It was around then that my people began to starve. Nobody had money to buy food, it seemed. They got more violent, and shootings were a daily occurrence. Drug use spiked, as did alcohol consumption. I became schizophrenic and depressed, like when the Civil War and the fight for Equality went on._

_My own turned against each other as ideas clashed, each person wanting a different thing to be done. Nobody could agree with anybody. It got so bad that in some regions, houses were destroyed and entire cities torched. Riots broke out in several places, and hundreds were killed. Everybody was just so amped up from drugs, poverty, hunger, and stress that no one could see and agree on a solution to our problems._

_But that was nothing compared to what happened next._

_The real attacks began._

_Those are what broke me._

_Nuclear bombs, air raids, enemy combat troops rampaging and massacring my people, burning my Capital. This continued for a year, and by the time my former allies got their heads out of their asses and came to help me I was almost dead. I was once a superpower, but after three years of poverty, nuclear radiation, fire, rage, slaughter and just a general sense of despair breaks even the strongest nations._

_But that wasn't even the worst part._

_They began robbing me._

_My 'allies' began their own scheme to kill me. France, Japan, Germany, Russia, China, and even England- They acted like they were going to help me get better. They took me in, gave me a little bit of food, money, and hope._

_Little did I know that really, they were running my country further into the ground. They took everything, from what little food I had left to my guns. They began taking over the better parts my land, imposing their own beliefs and systems on my people. The six of them took over all my duties._

_And the messed up thing? That's what saved me. The fact that I was able to have some personal recovery time and not worry about my country was enough to bring me back from the brink of death. I hadn't know that they were taking my land and slaughtering my people to do so, or else I wold have stopped them, somehow._

_When I finally got well enough to walk among my people, they told me about the takeovers and how much they hated it. They wanted freedom back, they said. They were starving and defenceless, and spoke of how my 'allies' were dumping poison into the water supplies, raiding their homes for money and supplies, and straight-up murdered innocent people for speaking out._

_I became instantly pissed. I marched right up to France, Germany, Japan, China, Russia and England and demanded my country back._

_Know what they did? _

_They tried to kill me right there._

_That's right._

_I barely got away with my life._

_They hunted me until I couldn't take it anymore._

_So today, the hunted became the hunter._

_I lured France to an old house, and there I overcame his rule and beat him in a fight. If I'm being honest with myself, I didn't want to. France was my friend before all this. But I guess that means nothing to him. So why does it mean something to me?_

_Sigh... I hope the others retreat, although I doubt they'll just give up. I'm not looking to fighting most of the others. Russia I'll have no problem with. I've always wanted to punch that Commie bastard in his creepy face. But Japan? Germany? China? England? I've grown close to them. I don't want to take them down. China means the second least to me out of the remaining, so I guess I'll go after him next. This will definitely not be easy, and I'm not looking forward to it._

_But this is what I must do. It's my duty as a nation to free myself of all the oppression I'm under, and save myself. And if I free myself from the other personas, then my people will follow my example and rise up against whomever I defeated. Like now, my strong, courageous people are revolting against the French. They know that they will win, because I won in my fight. Likewise, France's soldiers know that they will not win this fight. So lots of them have already fled, probably confused on how they can be beaten by a ragtag group of starved, poor people._

_Guess what, thought? Those starving, poor people are MY people. They may not be much right now, but once upon a time we rose up and declared our freedom from England. And from there, we became a great, powerful and noble nation. And even if it kills me, I swear to god that somehow, someway, I WILL return my people to how we once were-_

_United and free._

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Hello! In case you haven't figured it out yet, this was written from America's Point Of View as a sort of diary entry. Because this is a mainly third-person POV story, I want to interject these entries every once in a while so you can get a better picture of America and what he's thinking. Trust me, his views will defiantly be shifting over the course of this story. (Foreshadowing...)

Anyways, that about wraps it up for me. Until next time,  
Maihai~

_-~ Heart&Soul, 2p!Canada, and Ziayre Beilshmitd_


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